


drapetomania (the overwhelming urge to run away)

by e1iana



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Cuban Lance (Voltron), Galra Keith (Voltron), Half-Galra Keith (Voltron), I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I Wrote This While Listening to Hozier's Music, Injured Lance (Voltron), I’m getting carried away, Lance (Voltron) Needs a Hug, Lance (Voltron)-centric, M/M, Nonbinary Pidge | Katie Holt, POV Alternating, Pining Keith (Voltron), but it’s not known, but she doesn’t care about pronouns, me not knowing how to write fight scenes, me writing a voltron fic in 2021, or - Freeform, probably, wait but I actually did, what
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-12 23:15:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29392548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/e1iana/pseuds/e1iana
Summary: That’s what it was supposed to be. A routine inspection. They do it all the time to smaller planets.Unfortunately, that’s not what it turned out to be.And that’s how Lance got here, wielding his bayard, in the middle of 6 or so Galras, trying to fight his way out from the middle. Keith is with him, behind him. He called for Shiro at least 10 minutes ago and Lance feels lucky he hasn’t died yet because holy fucking hell.This is a losing battle.Or; Lance gets injured and Keith goes crazy lol.
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 17
Kudos: 83





	1. carnival of the animals, aquarium

**Author's Note:**

> um. so. it’s 2021 and I’m writing a Lance fic lol who am I? anyways if you read this I love you just as much as I love this ship. I actually really dislike the way this turned out but I’m stopping myself from editing and I’m just gonna post it because why not lol yolo.
> 
> who am I omg i just said yolo 😳
> 
> uh anyways, if you like or don’t like this please COMMENT I love comments. yes that’s all ty enjoy
> 
> tw; violence, small tiny very tiny mention of slavery, injuries, my bad writing

It had been a rough week. Pidge had located a Galran army base on a small habitable planet named Paenella IV (contrary to the name, there are only two recognized Paenella planets, which confused Lance to heaven and back.)

She said the base likely had slaves, based on the size of the army base. And the unused plot of land and a very large building next to it that looked freshly built.

_ And the fact that Galrans are ruthless _ , Lance added, but he didn't say that out loud.

Lance, always a bleeding heart, suggested they rescue the imprisoned. Shiro said no, surprisingly enough. Said it was too dangerous. But then he got that faraway look in his eyes that he always gets when they talk about confinement so… Lance let that one go.

(Contrary to popular belief, Lance does know basic boundaries thank you very much.)

The next day though, Allura suggested they fly down there to quietly inspect the place. See what barriers, enforcements, weapons that they have just in case they ever  _ did _ want to attempt a rescue. 

Shiro was reluctant, but he agreed, because Allura is like that. She has a way of getting you to agree to things you aren’t quite sure about. Lance hates it. It makes him unsure if he agreed because he wanted to or because Allura worked her weird ass magic.

But, he supposed, it worked this time.

So, they did. Pidge monitored the place for three days, then, on Friday, they moved. Only voltron went, Allura and Coran stayed back at the castle, the less people the better. Or something.

And that’s what it was supposed to be. A routine inspection. They do it all the time to smaller planets. 

Unfortunately, that’s not what it turned out to be. 

And that’s how Lance got  _ here _ , wielding his bayard, in the middle of 6 or so Galras, trying to fight his way out from the middle. Keith is with him, behind him. He called for Shiro at least 10 minutes ago and Lance feels lucky he hasn’t died yet because holy fucking hell.

This is a losing battle.

_ The less people the better, my ass.  _ Lance can’t help but think. Maybe he should stop thinking though, and focus on the task at hand because he just got kicked in the face with a giant Galra shoe and  _ fuck _ that really fucking hurts.

“Lance!” Keith yells, “On your right!” 

Lance manages to duck in time for a single strand of his hair to be sliced off instead of his entire fucking head. He stares at the curl that’s fluttering softly to the ground and laughs, he actually fucking laughs.  _ What the fuck? _ Fortunately he gets back in his head soon enough to gash a Galra’s kneecap, taking him down to the ground and immobilizing him.

Lance isn’t the worst with knives, but he’s a  _ lot _ better with a rifle ( _ sharpshooter _ ). He doesn’t really understand why his bayard is a sword (knife? Knife-sword?) currently, but his bayard apparently just does what it wants to.

Who knows, maybe there’s rhyme or reason that he just doesn’t see.

He shakes his head, getting himself out of his thoughts. He tastes blood in his mouth but it makes sense, getting kicked in the face does that to you. 

It’s hot, and fast and everything is going in slow motion and he feels like he’s stuck in time. Every punch or kick or slice brings him back, though, and slowly time starts speeding up. He’s in it to win it. 

He notices a Galran advancing on Keith from behind him. Oh shit. “Keith! Watch out!” As luck would have it (or training, Keith doesn’t need luck) Keith manages to kick the one behind him down to his knees and stab the one in front of him in his neck.  _ Hell yeah, go Keith. _

If you’d told him at the Garrison that he would be cheering Keith on right now, he’d laugh in your face and crack a joke about your psychic abilities. 

Lance feels a tear in his sleeve, then a hot flash of pain. Then he sees red clouding his blue armor. “Fuck.” He pants, and a seven foot tall Galran sneers at him, then laughs. He holds his right arm with his left hand and a different Galran, noticing he’s injured, kicks him in the back.

He manages to stay upright, holding his weight in the balls of his feet. There are 3 left. Only three. 

Holding his breath, he tries to recall the deadliest places to stab from health glass at the Garrison. Somewhere in the chest… maybe the ribs? He blocks a blow from a Galran and focuses harder. Neck… that sounds right? That sounds like something.

Sweat drips down into his eyes. He closes them and opens them as fast as he can, since he can’t reach up to wipe them.  _ Fuck, this stings.  _

Maybe it’s because of how fast he’s blinking, the light and the dark stimulating his brain. Maybe it’s a gift from the heavens, maybe it’s a gift from god themself, but he suddenly has a memory from a Garrison textbook.

_ For the quickest kill with a blade stab to the temple, eye socket, throat, or deeply under the ribs to reach the heart. _

_ Oh, thank god.  _ He sends a prayer up to the sky, maybe thanking whatever’s up there that he remembered this, maybe praying that it works, he doesn’t quite know.

He grips the knife-sword in his hand and aims for the throat, right above his left collarbone. The Galra falls to the ground, choking on his blood. He almost feels bad for smiling, then he notices Keith be pulled down by the Galra that was behind him and then he doesn’t fucking care about anything except Keith.

“Keith!” He yells, and runs over to where he’s pinned down by the Galra. It proves to not be Lance’s smartest idea to alert the Galra that he’s running over by screaming but. What’s done is done.

The Galra has his hand around Keith’s neck, and Lance sees red. He goes to stab it (him? Her? Them?) in the neck, but it whips its head around and actually bites a chunk out of Lance’s arm. “What. The fuck.” He mutters, staring at his bleeding hand. He must be high on adrenaline because he feels nothing at all. He tears his eyes away and remembers what the textbook said.

_ The temple, eye socket, throat, or deeply under the ribs to reach the heart. _

_ deeply under the ribs to reach the heart. _

Turning his wrist, he stabs the Galra in the ribs, and it falls on top of Keith, flailing for a moment. Lance can’t help but stab it again, and it goes still.

Keith pushes it off of him fast, standing up, looking appropriately rumpled. “Your hand.” He breathes, staring. 

Lance waves him off, “Don’t worry ‘bout it, I can barely feel it.” Slowly, Lance feels himself grinning. “We did it.”

Keith’s eyes widen “Holy shit. That was all of them?”

Lance nods, turning around fast. “I think, let me just-”

Three things happen in quick succession.

He sees a Galra. 

He sees a blade.

He feels the impact.

  
  
  
  



	2. lacrimosa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance awakens with a jolt. Everything is vivid, and moving. He’s hot, too. Like really hot. He doesn’t even have time to make a joke about that because someone is speaking to him and what the fuck is going on… who is that?… why is he moving so fast? He needs to get this armor off, it’s too fucking hot.
> 
> He reaches to his collar to get it off. Suddenly everything stops. It’s so abrupt, and he finds himself getting dizzy from it. He hears muffled sounds of voices and hurried versions of words he feels like he should recognize.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol so heyyy! I adore anyone who commented on the last chapter u guys are super fuckin awesome!
> 
> anyways: here’s another chapter of me bullshitting my way through this story 💕 also I’m so so sorry in advanced this hurt me to write 
> 
> tw: injuries, description of blood, my bad writing

_“Titi, Titi!” Lance cries, vigorously wiping away his tears with balled up fists. Titi Isabel crouches down, wincing as her knees pop. Lance doesn’t notice though, too upset to pay attention to anything but his own hiccups._

_“Oh, Mi Vida, what happened?”_

_Lance sniffles, “V-Veronica and Marco were being mean.”_

_“What is this? Amor, ¿qué dijeron?” His grandma puts a stern look on her face, and Lance blanches. When Titi speaks in Spanish, it’s serious. He doesn’t want his siblings to get in trouble…_

_“Well…”_

_“Cariño, está bien, you can tell me.”_

_Lance stutters, the tips of his ears turning red. “I-it wasn’t that bad…”_

_“Lance, I must know what they said to you so I can plan how many spankings to give to them.” Titi says slowly._

_“No!” Lance yelps, “Don’t spank them! I was snooping, they didn’t say it to my face!”_

_His red rimmed eyes widen, realizing what he’s said. He covers his mouth with both of his hands, cheeks turning even redder than his ears. “Ah,” Titi says, mouth twitching up. “I see. That’s why you didn’t want to tell me what they said.”_

_“And because I didn’t want to get them in trouble.” Lance says, dolefully._

_His Titi shakes with laughter, but Lance doesn’t understand what she’s laughing about. Now he’s gonna get a spanking for snooping, and he got Marco and Veronica in trouble._

_He feels tears well up in his eyes again, sticking his eyelashes together in long dark clumps._

_“Oh, mijo, don’t cry. Nobody’s getting in trouble.” She wipes his cheeks like they’re wet even though his tears are unfallen._

_“Really?”_

_“Si.” She says, nodding._

_“They laughed at me and said I talked too much. They said I was annoying.”_

_Titi frowns. “Oh, cariño, lo siento. That is very mean.” Lance nods, rubbing his eye and pouting._

_“I’m very sorry they said that. But you must remember, quien escucha su mal oye.”_

_Lance blinks, trying to make sense of the words. “What does that mean?” He asks with wide eyes._

_“It’s an old proverb, it says, he who peeps through a hole may see what will vex him.”_

_Lance’s brows furrow in confusion. “But I didn’t look through any holes, Titi.”_

_Titi laughs, placing her hands on Lance’s shoulders. “I know, cariño, it means that listeners never hear good of themselves.”_

_Lance’s mouth sets in a pout. “Oh. Why not?”_

_“Because, mijo, you have to understand, not everyone has nice things to say.”_

_“But… but mamá always told me that si no tienes nada amable que decir no digas nada en absoluto.”_

  
_[If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all.]_

_Titi smiles warmly, signaling Lance he said the right thing. His chest ticks in pride. “That is very true. Your ma taught you well. But sometimes people don’t know that, or sometimes…” Titi moves in closer, like she’s telling a secret. “Sometimes people ignore that rule. That doesn’t make them bad people, though, just people who were taught wrong._

_“Oh.” Lance breaths. “Were Marco and Veronica taught wrong?”_

_“No, nino. I think they just forgot. You know, your ma just taught you all of the important stuff, but they haven’t heard it in a long time. Since they were little like you.”_

_“I’m not little!” Lance protests, crossing his arms, but he has a smile when Titi tickles him in response. A giggle bursts out of his mouth as Titi brushes her fingers across his stomach. He squirms, laughing. “If you’re so big, then why are you so ticklish?” Titi asks, making it a point to tickle under his armpits._

_Lance bursts out laughing again, swatting her hands away. “Okay, okay, I’m little.” She stops ticking him. “Only a little, though. I’m a little little!” He grins, showing off his missing front tooth._

_“Bueno.” Titi laughs. “You go do your homework now, supper is almost ready.”_

_Lance pouts, “Boo!” and Titi brushes him away, back to his room._

_Later that night, after supper, Lance overhears Titi lecturing Marco and Veronica in the living room._

_“Nunca volverás a hablar de un hermano de esa manera.¿Ha olvidado lo que le han enseñado? Se supone que debes hablar de alguien como si estuviera escuchando, siempre. ¿Lo has olvidado o estabas siendo cruel a propósito?”_

_[You will never speak of a brother in that way again. Have you forgotten what you have been taught? You are supposed to talk about someone as if they are listening, always. Have you forgotten or were you being cruel on purpose?]_

_  
Veronica says something then, quiet enough that Lance can’t hear it. Titi keeps going. _

_“¿Has olvidado que él también es una persona? Es un alma tan amable y no merece que se hable de él de la manera en que usted habló de él. Absolutamente no es molesto y no necesita esa inmundicia en su cabeza. Tienes diez y doce años, deberías saberlo mejor.”_

_[Have you forgotten that he is also a person? He is a kind soul and does not deserve to be talked about the way you talked about him. He is absolutely not annoying and he doesn’t need that filth in your head from you. You're ten and twelve, you should know better.]_

_Lance smiles, Titi thinks he’s kind and… not annoying. Maybe that old proverb was wrong. Maybe listeners can hear good of themselves._

_He sleeps well that night._

  
  


Lance awakens with a jolt. Everything is vivid, and moving. He’s hot, too. Like really hot. He doesn’t even have time to make a joke about that because someone is speaking to him and what the fuck is going on… who is that?… why is he moving so fast? He needs to get this armor off, it’s too fucking hot.

He reaches to his collar to get it off. Suddenly everything stops. It’s so abrupt, and he finds himself getting dizzy from it. He hears muffled sounds of voices and hurried versions of words he feels like he should recognize.

-he’s… wake… ‘s he? …okay-

He focuses harder, looking around. He takes in his surroundings. Dark sky, billions of stars, no trees. He’s being held by… someone. There's a soft hand on his back and something that feels big, hard and solid like (no not _that!)_ ... metal? Metal. Definitely. _Hey…_ he manages to think, _at least I’m okay enough to make dirty jokes._

A sharp flash of pain shoots through his abdomen, along with the realization of, _oh, that’s Shiro._ He doesn’t have much time to focus on the realization, though, because the searing pain is _literally_ burning his flesh from the inside out. He clenches his fists, and feels tears prickle at the corners of his eyes. 

Then, the pain just kind of… goes? Not that Lance is complaining, anything is better than whatever the fuck that was. The searing pain fades out into an intense tingle, it’s incomparable to anything Lance has ever felt before. His body feels like it’s vibrating, or like, ascending and- _is this death?_

It must not be death because with effort Lance manages to croak out a weak “Shiro?” 

Shiro looks down at the boy in his arms. Lance is sweaty, and pale, and his oceanic eyes have taken on a greyer tone than usual. Blood sticks to his lips when he coughs, beading up and staying like it’s afraid to move. Afraid to fall. Lance feels like that sometimes.

“Lance,” Shiro breathes. “You’re gonna be okay, alright?”

Lance nods, but his brows are furrowed. He coughs a little, lungs burning even though he’s pretty sure that’s not where he was injured. He lets his eyes drift down and- _dios, that’s so much blood._ They teach you how much blood you have in health class - 1.5 gallons, if you wanna know - but, jesus. You don’t think about it until you see it.

The red makes his armor look more like Keith’s than his own and it’s really fucking freaking him out. He sees a knife in his midsection and, _yeah okay, that makes sense._

“I got… stabbed?” Lance’s head lolls to the side, into Shiro’s chest. He’s glad Shiro is practically radiating warmth, because he’s starting to feel cold. Like, really cold. Like, Luis pushed him into the lake and it’s February so it’s only 60 degrees, cold.

“Yes, you got stabbed, but you’re going to be okay.”

“Oh.” Is all Lance can say because, fuck? What do you even say to that? Also because his brain is. slowing down and.. it’s getting really… hard to… form… thoughts… and… sentences. He closes his eyes for a few seconds, reveling in the warmth Shiro gives him.

When he opens his eyes, he’s in pain instantly. He jolts out a scream, and presses his hands to his midsection. He’s breathing heavy, little groans of pain coming out of him every time he moves. 

Oh, wait. He’s moving. He looks around and he’s in… Red? Next to Keith? But he was just in Shiro’s… you know what. He’s just gonna go with it. 

Red swerves to the side and he groans in pain, legs curling up into the fetal position. That just makes it worse. He uses one hand to grab on to his pant, hard. With nails. He’s pretty sure he’s tearing the fabric but. Whatever.

For a second it sounds like he has seashells on his ears, then he realizes that he couldn’t hear for that entire time. The sound clears up soon, and suddenly everything is loud. 

“-don’t think he can hear me.” Keith mumbles, clearly not to Lance.

“I’m pretty sure I can hear you.” Lance says, biting back a shout when Red shakes.

“Oh my god, Lance.” Keith says. He seems to be thinking intently about something, then he stops piloting Red, choosing to come over to Lance instead. Lance’s eyes widen, before he recalls that Red can pilot herself. Keith crouches over Lance, who’s pressed against the wall clumsily. “Are you okay?” 

Lance gives him a look, before picking up his hand, which is now dripping with thick dark red blood. “Just. Peachy.” He grits through his teeth. 

“Right. Right. Okay, dumb question.”

At that, Lance gives him another look that says, _yeah dude, no shit._ Maybe he should stop focusing on giving Keith looks and start focusing on breathing because _holy shit_ he’s lightheaded.

“Okay… okay… what do I do?” Keith mutters to himself. Lance’s eyes widen. Keith is freaking out more than he is.

Groaning, Lance takes a breath. “Keith, buddy, I would say step one is putting pressure on the wound.”

Keith’s big eyes meet his. “Right, yes, that sounds right.” Tentatively, he places his hands on Lance’s abdomen, freezing when Lance tenses. 

“Keep. Going. Don’t wait till I’m dead.”

Keith’s frown deepens and Lance’s heart tugs at the fact that Keith’s pretty face is gonna get wrinkles by the ripe age of thirty if he doesn’t get a skincare regimen. He adds that to his mental checklist of _Things I Have To Do If I Live:_

_1\. Go back to earth._

_2\. Finally write the script of bee movie two._

_3\. Tell Pidge I love her more._

_4\. Get Keith a skincare routine._

Yeah, that sounds about right. Lance lets himself get lost in his head for a moment. He quickly gets startled back out of it when Keith snarks “Don’t say shit like that.”

Keith presses his hands down harder and Lance suddenly regrets having him do that because it _fucking hurts._ Lance lets out a groan and tries to bring his knees to his chest to stop it. It doesn’t work. He hears Keith mumble something under his breath and tries to pull himself back to the present to hear it.

Whatever it was Keith said, he couldn’t make it out.

Keith presses the wound firmly and Lance can’t help but laugh. _What the fuck is going on._ _How did I get here to where Keith is pressing my stab wound and I’m on the floor in fucking SPACE._ Keith gives him an incredulous look. “You’re laughing.”

Lance nods yes while giggling and honestly he must be delusional as hell because this seems like the funniest shit ever. 

Keith’s disbelieving looks stays, but Lance swears he sees a glint of amusement in his eyes. “You’re stabbed. And you’re laughing.”

“Hell yeah,” Lance titters, then winces from the energy exertion. “Like, what the fuck? I mean like, we were so close to beating all of them and I got stabbed by the last one. In what world.” He snorts, and a flash of a smile comes across Keith’s lips. 

Keith schools his face, then rolls his eyes. “I can’t believe you didn’t check behind you, Pretty Boy. That’s like, the first thing they teach.”

Lance’s eyes widen, and he chooses to ignore the nickname. “Oh, I’m sorry I was too focused on _saving_ your ass. Although I explicitly remember you being pretty happy with not getting eaten alive by a six foot tall Galra dude.” He bites back quickly, but his words aren’t harsh. In fact, they’re inexplicably fond.

“Oh my god, I never should’ve let you stab that Galra, you’re totally gonna hold this over my head for the rest of my life.”

Lance laughs, yet his breathing is getting heavier and he’s getting colder by the second. “You said it, not me, mullet.”

Keith chuckles, grimacing when he sees blood seeping from where his hands are placed. “You’re the worst.”

“You love me,” Lance grins, eyes slipping shut for a quick second, flying back opens when Keith nudges him.

“Ad hominem.” Keith laughs, but his brows set into that furrowed position they stay at from time to time.

“Call it a stab hominem.” Lance chuckles, weakly. It gets a startled laugh from Keith, who shakes his head. “That was so bad.”

Lance grins, but doesn’t say more. A peaceful silence sets over the two of them. Lance glances up at Keith, who has his eyes closed. Better to see darkness than to see the blood leaking out of Lance’s midsection, probably. Lance can get that.

He lets his eyes roam over Keith. Hey, don’t judge him. If he’s dying in a couple of minutes he at least wants to go out looking at something pretty. Because that’s what Keith is, not that he’d say it to his face. He’s pretty. He’s got these stupidly huge violet eyes, and they have this elegant feline quality to them.

They’re like the fucking Jesus statue whose eyes are always on you, somehow. Strangely Lance never felt as unsettled by it as he probably should’ve.

Then his stupid fucking jaw, that Lance imagines could probably cut a fucking apple. 

Lance lets his gaze drop to his lips, which somehow manage to be an amazingly appealing shade of red at all times. And he’s got high cheekbones so when he blushes it sits high on his cheek, almost underneath his eyes and sometimes he pulls his dumb hair up and Lance would never admit it be he manages to look simultaneously cute and hot at the same time and-

Lance cuts his thoughts (and the peaceful atmosphere) off with an alarming cough. Blood spills out of his mouth and he looks down at his hand in shock. It’s a lot more blood than it was before.

When Lance joked that he’s gonna die in a few minutes, he was just kidding. He doesn’t wanna die. He wants to go home, and see Veronica and Rachel. See if Luis finally got some balls and proposed to his girlfriend Maria yet. See if he’s finally taller than Marco. 

Not only that, he wants to see Pidge, wants to joke around with her and watch weird Altean movies with space goo that tastes like popcorn. He wants one of Hunk’s Bear hugs that he never appreciated enough before and be Hunk’s food tester while he tries out new space recipes.

He doesn’t want… he doesn’t want-

“I don’t want to die.” Lance whispers, and his voice is so fucking vulnerable it makes him want to sink into the floor.

Keith’s brows furrow. “What? You aren’t dying.”

“Keith…” Lance says, because he is. He’s bleeding out and he’s cold and he’s dizzy and he’s dying.

“No, no! I won’t let you die, you hear me? You aren’t dying.”

“Keith.” Lance says, and when Keith doesn’t look at him he grabs his face, leaving blood streaks on his chin. 

“What?” Keith croaks out, avoiding Lance’s eyes.

“Hold my hand.” Lance says. Keith finally meets his eyes, a look of surprise written all over his face, clear as a crystal.

“What?” He says again, only it sounds entirely different than when he said it thirty seconds ago.

“I’m dying, Keith. Hold my hand.” His body decides it’s a perfectly good time to shiver, but who cares. It proves his point.

“No!”

“No?” Lance can’t help the crushed look that his face takes on. Keith notices, and his eyes soften. They’re full of tears, which shocks Lance a bit more than he’s willing to let on.

“No, because we’re almost to the castle. Red said it’s only a little bit longer. Just… hold on for a little longer.”

Lance laughs weakly, because he would if he could. His expression sombers though, when blood leaks from his mouth. “Tell Pidge…” Lance starts. “That I love her.”

“Don’t.”

“And tell hunk,”

“You tell him.”

“That he’ll always be my best buddy.”

“Stop.”

“Tell Shiro that I’m sorry I didn’t last long..”

“Lance. Stop it.” Keith’s voice is thick with tears and Lance feels a pang of guilt that he’s the cause of them.

Red jolts and Lance grabs his stomach with a whimper. “I’m sorry… that I didn’t get to know… you better… Keith.”

“You still can. We’ll get you back to the castle and as soon as you get out of a healing pod we’ll hang out. And you can learn all about me and the shack I lived in and the foster parents that I liked and the ones I hated and my favorite foods and colors and songs.” Tears are flowing down Keith’s cheeks and his voice is wobbly, and Lance wants nothing more than to wipe those tears away but he’s not quite sure he can get his arm all the way up there.

“That… sounds… nice.” Lance smiles.

“It will be.”

Lance coughs and more blood comes out of his mouth. It’s the eighth wonder of the world that he’s still lucid at this point. 

“Lance.” Keith mumbles, and with effort Lance looks up. He sees Keith staring at him, a remorseful look stuck on his face. He holds his bloodied hand out, palm up.

Lance takes it.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if u made it to the end I’m so so sorry plz don’t kill me
> 
> also! i need ideas on why his bayard is a knife PLZ i love how I didn’t plan out any plot for this story.
> 
> anyways ily so much you are so loved what the heck and have a wonderful day or night

**Author's Note:**

> if u read all the way thru u a real one and I love you sm.


End file.
